If you read Tuesday’s post then you know yesterday was our 8th wedding anniversary.


Remember how I said there have been 21 cars in and out of our lives during those 8 years? Well, I’m not a Monday Night football widow or a golf widow. He doesn’t play or watch sports beyond the occasional OSU game. I’m a gearhead’s wife. He may bleed OSU orange but he breathes speed and chrome.


Cars are a part of who my husband is–it goes beyond a hobby, but that’s how I’ll refer to it for the purposes of this post. I don’t think I even realized what it meant to be a gearhead’s wife when I married him. It is a lifestyle.


I spent the first several years fighting it, stressing over it, in general being driven nuts. (Heh heh, get it? Driven? Nuts?) He loves old cars (but only old cars–he very rarely works on 1980s or newer model cars). He spent every spare moment working on them. It’s his passion.


In the beginning it caused some problems in our marriage. It took some time for both of us to adjust. I had to adjust to the fact that there would always be a flow of cars and trucks in various states of thrashage coming in and out of our lives. I had to adjust to him spending his spare time working on the cars instead of hanging out with me. My husband had to adjust to the idea that he couldn’t spend untold amounts of money–regardless of how good a deal it is–on fixing up these cars. And he had to adjust to not spending every spare moment working on cars, attending cruises, or car shows.


We finally reached a delicate balance of compromise. If communication is the adhesive that holds a marriage together than compromise is the accelerator. Part of that compromise meant that he had to find a way to fund this hobby without taking money from the household income. He has bartered for nearly every single car or car part that has come into his possession during our marriage. Occassionally, he has to spend money but he usually manages to sell something from his stash of automobiles/parts/electronics to fund the purchase.


In 2003, he reached the point where he was writing about his projects. The first magazine articles he wrote for free. He worked hard and paid his dues. Then he started getting paid for his articles in the magazines. In June 2006, he quit his regular job to write for car publications full time. He has a book coming out later this year and a contract on another book.


So now his hobby is his job and his job is his hobby. He is a freelance automotive journalist and all that time that he used to spend on the cars when he wasn’t at his regular 9-5 is spent with his family. Sometimes finances get tight. He works harder then ever before. But he’s also happier working then ever before.


My husband is proof of the old adage that where there is a will there is a way. Pure determination and persistance (often to the point of obsession) have made it possible for him to live his dream. Working on old cars and writing about it for big name magazines. If you are into magazines about hot rods, car restorations, muscle cars, or mustangs then you’ve probably read one of my husband’s articles. I’m inordinately proud of that.


This is his baby:





He bought this car, a 1971 Buick GS convertible, the month we started dating. He loves this car. I’ve often said that if it was a choice between me and this car? He’d choose the car. But I have come to love the car too (Shhh! Don’t tell him that!) I’ve made my peace with the GS.


We went everywhere in this car the first year of our relationship and marriage. We left the reception on our wedding night in this car.





We drove our first born home from the hospital in it. I haven’t taken a ride in it, let alone driven it, in several years now–it’s been in various states of dis-repair as he re-builds it to fit his vision.





This car has made it possible to buy our house and pay our bills all while my husband pursues his dreams.


I have always loved classic cars, hot rods, and pure American muscle. I didn’t know anything about them as the men in my life were never gearheads. My dream car was pretty typical–a 60s model Mustang would do just fine–but a good looking hot rod or classic would turn my head and make my heart go pitter-pat everytime. Not that I was attracted to a man based on a hot car–but it sure never hurt either.


Here’s another of his projects that has been waiting its turn to roll up on the starting line–after a lot of work that is.





This is how they start. Thrashed. It’s not pretty, but he sees the potential. Like an artist, he sees what it will become. He has big plans for this car. He dreams big and he goes after what he wants.


And that’s why I love him.

Thanks to Krissy of Firecracker Mom for playing along last week!


P.S. **If you haven’t entered the drawing for my giveaway yet, make sure you enter before the Super Bowl kickoff on Sunday!**

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